


kaleidoscopic

by jeonghan (chunji)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, so it's easier to keep track, there will be no white flag above my door, this is the same series just made into a multi-chap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-01-06 19:13:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12217185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chunji/pseuds/jeonghan
Summary: just jeonghan and wonwoo falling in love.





	1. not like train tracks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what's it like to fall in love?
> 
> well, you'll see it coming - like a fucking train.
> 
> ( trust him. mingyu is a smart one. )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one of thirty: meeting.
> 
> title song: trains by the narrative.

_you'll see it coming - like a fucking train._

 

that's how mingyu explains falling in love, opts to finish his monologue instead of warning his best friend about the impending basketball to the face that he just so happens to avoid at the last minute.

 

" _holy shit. i'm so sorry_."

 

a voice to match the concerned familiar face that's peering above him - the literature nerd with blond-dyed hair, usual toothy grin replaced by furrowed brows and a slack jaw.

 

"you okay?" the blond offers help via an extended hand, which wonwoo gratefully accepts. "maybe we should go to the clinic--"

 

" _pish posh, jeonghan,_ " mingyu oh-so conveniently answers in wonwoo’s place with a dismissive wave of a hand. wonwoo's tongue feels heavy in his mouth. "he'll be fine. wonwoo could afford to lose a few brain cells.

 

"blood clotting is a thing, gyu," wonwoo mutters under his breath, rubbing his beet red forehead. "but, no, yeah, i'm fine. no worries."

 

"you sure?"

 

mingyu, as it seems, has never heard of concussions before, and with the way wonwoo's entire world is spinning, he might have one.

 

_"what's taking so long?"_

 

seungkwan stands impatiently by the court, arms crossed over his chest. he's fast enough to catch the ball with a soft  ** _oof!_ ** when jeonghan throws it over a little too hard on purpose.

 

"can you relax?" he shouts back to his teammate before turning back to the potentially concussed male. "gotta go before he throws a fit."

 

"i'm wonwoo, by the way."

 

"i know," the other replies, wide grin easily taking its rightful place. he runs back to the court, turning slightly to give wonwoo a final wave. "nice to officially meet you."

 

contrary to what mingyu had previously stated, wonwoo did _not_ see it coming.

 

( _like a fucking train._ )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30 day otp challenge! a mania-induced decision, but hey, i'll do anything to write. a short series between my long-ass one. (note 1) these fics will mostly be in single-verse unless (obviously) stated otherwise - as instructed under the next days. (note 2) i decided to turn these into ficlets (max. 300 words) just to take the challenge up a notch because i can never write anything short. (note 3) because i am an uncreative fuck, titles will probably be from songs that inspired the chapter. (note 4) wonhan because the tag is dead, as am i. (note 5) i was supposed to start august 1, but fuck it.


	2. falling is like this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's jeonghan who falls first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two of thirty: realization.
> 
> title song: falling is like this by ani difranco.

it's jeonghan who falls first.

 

_literally._

 

wonwoo falls second, pile of books he’s worked so hard to stack and carry toppling over the moment jeonghan loses his balance, and lands directly on top of him. the library needs to get better stepping stools.

 

" _holy shit. i'm so sor--_ " jeonghan pauses, blinking as he realizes who he's sitting on. "wonwoo?"

 

wonwoo groans, wonders if he has an actual concussion _this time_. "do you greet everyone like this?"

 

"just ones i like." jeonghan struggles to get up, dusts his hands off before - _yet again_ \- he offers one to the other. the wide-eyed, confused (see: flustered) look on wonwoo's face makes jeonghan quickly add, "it's a joke."

 

nonetheless, there's a light shade of pink on wonwoo's cheeks that jeonghan wants to believe is the illusion of bad lighting. he helps wonwoo pick up the ruined pile of heavy hardcovers scattered on the floor. "art theory?"

 

"yeah," wonwoo responds, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. he carefully, almost shyly, takes the book back from the other's grasp. "i, uh, like art." _obviously. fucking idiot._ "i know. fucking nerd, right?"

 

jeonghan grins, picks up the book he had been clutching as he fell. "greek myth," he says, waving the book slightly, as if to say _you're not the only one_.

 

"for class?"

 

"leisure."

 

it's wonwoo's turn to smile. "me, too."

 

they spend the rest of the afternoon in their own little bubble at the back of the library, reading excerpts and sharing paintings preserved between worn-out pages. jeonghan peers at the other from behind messy bangs, listens to the low baritone of wonwoo's voice as he speaks - _completely enamored_.

 

_you get it, don’t you?_

 

it's jeonghan who falls first.

 

( _in every sense of the word._ )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, yeah. stereotypical homo listening to ani difranco.


	3. struggling for last place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jeonghan is tired of running.
> 
> in all sense of the word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> three of thirty: reveal.
> 
> title song: whether you fall by tracy bonham

they're halfway through junior year of university when jeonghan drops the bomb.

 

"i think i'm in love with you."

 

wonwoo's mouth hang agape for good few seconds before his lips pucker instinctively, halfway ready to speak but the word balances at the tip of his tongue as an uncertain  ** _w--_**

 

1\. **w** ho are you talking to?

2\. **w** hat did you just say?

3. **w** hich part of me?

4\. **w** hy?

 

they're sitting cross-legged on the ground under the bleachers. purple-orange hues peek through the spaces between the seats. jeonghan can't bring himself to look when he speaks - from both cowardice and exhaustion. sweat trickles down the side of his face from having just finished practice.

 

track and field.

 

jeonghan never expects to win first place, but he's good at that -  _running._

 

_in a general sense._

 

he refuses to run from _this_.

 

wonwoo's book is left forgotten on his lap, thumb keeping it on its current page. his gaze rests on his friend, brows furrowed - turning more bewildered than confused as seconds tick on.

 

( _are you an idiot?_ )

 

"let's go home," is what comes out instead, sounding much harsher than he intends it to be. it's not a direct rejection - nor is it one at all. wonwoo gets up first, backpack already slung over a shoulder by the time jeonghan's standing. they walk the campus in silence, eyes on the ground. their feet move in sync with each other's heartbeat.

 

it's when the back of wonwoo's hand brushes against jeonghan's that the missing piece of his quiet **_w--_** reveals itself as concrete. he releases into the air between them, completing the thought he's had in mind for weeks.

 

" **w** ill you go out with me?"

 

jeonghan lifts his head, turns enough to see wonwoo much too focused on counting his own footsteps. jeonghan's vision is partially covered by still-damp hair, and he's not sure if the heaving of his chest is from practice or from having the wind knocked right out of him. it takes a few agonizing moments before his own lips pucker with his own **_w--_** , but words fail to form in his head, throat constricting and suddenly void of an answer.

 

the thumping of his heart does the talking for him.

 

_one beat._

 

( **_wait._** )

 

_and another._

 

( **_what?_** )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> three days in a row omg so far so good.  
> watch me miss like five days in a row.  
> obviously i fucked up, so under 500 words it is.


	4. it will never change - me and you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> first dates are never perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> four of thirty: first date
> 
> title song: night changes by one direction

**one.**

 

"wonwoo, i can't."

 

"please.

 

"wonwoo, no."

 

"it'll be quick. i swear."

 

jeonghan reluctantly takes the box from wonwoo's hand, relieving him of the weight of the five kittens he found on the way over.

 

wonwoo adds, "it'll only be for a few days." a calico kitten attempts to slip out of the box, but wonwoo gently pushes it back in, scratching the back of its ear. "until we can find them a new home.

 

"hold up." jeonghan takes the box inside the house, and wonwoo follows suit. "what do you mean _we?"_

 

"you're not seriously going to let me go through this alone, are you?

 

" _y_ _ou_ found them!

 

"but, i also-"

 

"wonwoo," jeonghan presses, turning on his heels to face the other once the box is down on his living room carpet. "i'm allergic to cats."

 

wonwoo sucks in a breath between clenched teeth. "right," he says. "my bad." he chews on his bottom lip, feigns contemplation as he kicks at the ground for a good few seconds.

 

_resisting is futile._

 

jeonghan heaves out a sigh, says, "i'll ask mingyu to pick them up after our date."

 

" _t_ _hank you._ "

 

**two.**

 

they miss the reservation by five minutes.

 

“all because of your damn cats.”

 

wonwoo raises both hands, palms open, a french fry dangling from between his teeth.

 

( "i didn't peg you for someone who liked pussy."

 

"shut the fuck up." )

 

they’re at jeonghan’s favorite 24-hour diner right across the four-star establishment, enjoying a two-star dinner of burgers, fries, and extra large root beer.

 

( “we’re late.”

 

“to where?”

 

“it’s a surprise.”

 

and surprised jeonghan was. )

 

“you know,” jeonghan starts when he notices wonwoo’s sullen expression. he takes his time, however, licking his fingers free from ketchup. “it’s not a total loss.”

 

wonwoo hums in response, finishing off the remainder of the fries littering the tray between them. there’s a moment of contented silence, relishing the aftertaste of one of the best burgers around the city (or so jeonghan says). finally, wonwoo asks, “you wanna grab a drink?”

 

“ _please_.”

 

**three.**

 

“hey, baby. what’s your name?”

 

the pervert’s breath reeks of alcohol.

 

jeonghan clenches his jaw, purses his lips. he takes in a deep breath before turning around to completely face the stranger. “sorry, pal. not a girl.”

 

“i don’t mind a little experimenting, pretty boy.”

 

wonwoo comes back from the bathroom to be met by the peculiar sight. “what’s going on here?” the way jeonghan’s eyes shift to the drunk bastard beside him is enough for wonwoo to step beside his date. “back off, buddy,” he starts. “he’s with me.”

 

“this lanky son of a bitch?” the stranger throws his head back, laughing loud enough to grab half of the bar’s attention. half the audience refuse to look away. everyone loves a good show, after all. a hand - the stranger’s - settles on jeonghan’s shoulder. despite the latter’s efforts to shrug it off, the man refuses to budge.

 

the way jeonghan’s gaze falls, tongue running his tongue along his upper molars as he cocks his head to the side, is enough for wonwoo to throw aside his jacket ( _“wonwoo? hold on-”_ ), and sucker punch the man square in the jaw.

 

jeonghan freezes as the man staggers backwards. he manages to grab hold of the counter for balance, and, in one swift movement, it’s wonwoo who ends up with a bleeding nose. wonwoo runs a hand across his mouth, sees scarlet dripping from his chin. seeing a distracted enemy, the man raises his fist once more, but jeonghan gets in between them, knuckle landing on his jaw instead.

 

wonwoo’s eyes widen, reaches out to catch a stumbling jeonghan, wiping blood on the back of the other’s shirt in the process. jeonghan hisses, fingers running along his bruising chin. wonwoo peers over at his date. “are you oka-”

 

“not the face, you fucking asshole.”

 

jeonghan throws his first punch.

 

**four.**

 

they land in the emergency room.

 

wonwoo sits on the edge of a bed, a bandage across his nose. jeonghan settles on a chair beside him, ice pack on his chin.

 

“sorry.”

 

jeonghan snorts, wincing immediately after, pressing the ice pack harder against his skin. “don’t worry about it. worry about your beautiful god-given nose.”

 

“ _ha ha_ ,” wonwoo starts, peering down at this date. “ _funny_.”

 

“i’m serious, dude,” jeonghan replies. it hurts to smile, but there's a glint in jeonghan's eyes, despite the dim lighting of the hospital, that says enough. there’s an odd fluttering in wonwoo’s chest. “i fucking love your nose.”

 

**five.**

 

jeonghan finds himself in his kitchen, with wonwoo gently rubbing ice on his burned hand.

 

"jesus, i'm so fucking sorry."

 

two cups of coffee are emptied on the floor - americano, as bitter as wonwoo currently feels.

 

"this night was a fucking disaster."

 

"no, it wasn't." jeonghan's tone remains genuine, albeit tinged with amusement. "i’ve never been on a real date before.”

 

“looks like you still haven’t.”

 

with a light chuckle and a shake of his head, jeonghan takes wonwoo’s hand in his. the other looks up with lips turned slightly downward, eyes lackluster in a silent apology. jeonghan admits, “ _real_ dates aren’t supposed to be perfect."

 

_this isn’t a movie._

 

"you're too nice, jeonghan."

 

"first ones are generally disastrous."

 

 _you're right_ , wonwoo thinks, runs a damp hand through his hair once the ice has completely melted from the warmth of their skin. this makes him wonder how much shit jeonghan can tolerate exactly, considering the enormous shitstorm that occurred in a span of a few hours. “i tried.”

 

wonwoo - never the clumsy type, never flustered, never helpless - starts stuttering and stumbling at the mere sight of jeonghan throwing his head back in laughter; feels his head spin when the back of their hands brush as they walk; feels his heart attempt to break free of its rightful confinement  when jeonghan laces their fingers together.

 

“you don’t have to try so fucking hard, you know?” jeonghan adds, slowly pulling his hand back, uses it to playfully, but gently, pat wonwoo’s cheek. “or at all.”

 

wonwoo scrunches his nose up, only to wince when he remembers: _oh, right._ a broken nose. _i’m an idiot_. “thanks for the heads up.”

 

“wonwoo,” jeonghan presses, squeezing the other’s hand. “i confessed first.”

 

 _again_ , wonwoo thinks, letting the other's words sink in. a tiny fact so surreal, wonwoo still can’t believe it happened. _you’re right_.

 

\--

 

"are you still in love with me?"

 

"yeah."

 

"just checking."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> five drafts later (with only 1000 words!), and this baby was born. finally. took me only a little less than a month, too. there's like 2 pages in the wonhan tag, and i'm here about to make it three.


	5. a part of me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> big stories behind small things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> five of thirty: reminder
> 
> title song: photographs & memories by jason reeves

**one.**  
  
  
jeonghan opens _the iliad_ somewhere in the middle, where rose petals are pressed and dried, edges brown and only slightly wilted. chewing on his bottom lip, jeonghan carefully peels them off the page, makes sure the edges don’t crack and tear further. he arranges them in an organized line on his family’s glass dining table, a small, fond smile making its way to his lips.

 

 

 

“who from?” his mother asked a few days prior, when he walked through the door clutching a large bouquet of pinks and whites.

 

jeonghan had already plucked the card off, slipped it safely between the pages of _the odyssey_. “track team.”

 

> _babe, congrats on first place!_
> 
> _\- ww_

 

( more like the one-man cheer squad. )

 

 

**two.**

 

wonwoo wakes with his hair sticking out in odd directions. he passes by the mirror on his way to the bathroom, reflection forgotten when his eyes land on the polaroid photo of him and jeonghan mid-kiss inserted between the wooden frame.

 

 

 

seungkwan had a penchant for taking photos.

 

candid ones, to be exact.

 

“you, guys, are _dating?_ ” mingyu asked, mouth hanging agape. “shit, son. that’s fast.”

 

“oh, yeah?” seungcheol urged with an upward tilt of his chin. “prove it.”

 

wonwoo scoffed. “what, you want us to start making out in front of you?”

 

“a kiss would suffice,” seungkwan said, inserting film into his instax mini - bright yellow because, as vernon explained when he bought it as a birthday present, the shade could just as well rival seungkwan’s obnoxious nature. “but, by all means.”

 

with a roll of his eyes, jeonghan nudged wonwoo with an elbow. “make it quick” the latter sighed, turned reluctantly so they were facing each other.

 

just as their lips touch - a flash.

 

jeonghan had to squint, blinking away the white shapes behind his eyelids, while wonwoo lifted his glasses to rub at his eyes.

 

“sorry,” seungkwan started, pulling the film out, and waving it in the air. “test shot.”

 

once the photo finished developing, mingyu and seungcheol hollered, passing the photo between themselves. vernon came to join them upon hearing, adding to the childish commotion.

 

it made it to seungkwan’s wall of shame - a corkboard of photos that include one in which seungcheol was passed out, drunk, on a bench in front of starbucks.

 

wonwoo stole theirs later that night.

 

there was absolutely nothing shameful about being in love with the most beautiful-

 

“ _wonwoo_ ,” jeonghan called out, waving a hand in front of the other's face. “let’s go.”

 

there were collective _ooohhs_  in the background, and playful nudges thrown around. with a roll of his eyes (and the photo secretly tucked into the back pocket of his jeans), wonwoo took jeonghan’s hand in his, and laced their fingers together.

 

 

**three.**

 

"are you two married now?"

 

"wedding rings are on the left _ring_ finger, mingyu," jeonghan explains. "not middle-right." granted, wonwoo wears his on his middle-left, only so the rings brush against each other whenever they hold hands.

 

"that's fucking gay," seungcheol pipes in.

 

wonwoo nonchalantly sips his soda. "maybe because we are."

 

 

 

it started out a joke.

 

"like couples?"

 

jeonghan pursed his lips, gave wonwoo a look. "are we not a couple?"

 

visiting a flea market wasn't exactly wonwoo's idea of a saturday afternoon, but his smitten logic defied that concept entirely. jeonghan looked picturesque under the sunlight, profile illuminated by the bright rays. jeonghan in all his entirety was a consistent distraction from items wonwoo could have bought, which meant bringing jeonghan to bazaars and the likes would ultimately save him a fuckton of money.

 

looks like he won the jackpot.

 

"is this your way of proposing?" wonwoo asked, lazily draping an arm around the other’s shoulder to pull him close.

 

jeonghan craned his head to peer over at his boyfriend - the word still all-too foreign on his tongue. "maybe."

 

wonwoo chuckled, shook his head. he planted a quick kiss to jeonghan's temple. "smooth."

 

the gesture was met with a grin before jeonghan emitted a gasp when a sign caught his attention, and he tugged wonwoo toward one of the stalls. "look," he began, eyeing the array of rings before them. "let's get the buy one, get one free."

 

wonwoo raised a brow, picking up one of the bejeweled bands to examine. "didn't peg you for a cheapskate."

 

"really?"

 

wonwoo snorted. " _no_." considering jeonghan would willingly drink at four in the afternoon to avail of the free mojitos during happy hour.

 

( "you're an alcoholic."

 

"it's free shit, wonwoo." )

 

"so, are you in or not?" jeonghan asked, already pulling out his wallet from the right pocket of his jeans.

 

"sure," wonwoo replied, choosing one of the simpler gold bands, and slipping it into his left middle finger. he raised his hand to examine, let the accessory glint under the sunlight. "why not?"

 

 

 

it was a week later, after jeonghan's class, that wonwoo met him outside the humanities building with a small, red velvet box in hand.

 

assumed a prank, jeonghan, unfazed, simply raised his right hand, ring in his middle finger gleaming under the sunlight. "already married, remember?"

 

"no, no," wonwoo began, opening the box to present two silver bands, insides engraved with their initials. "i'm not letting you wear a shit ring."

 

it took a short pause and a few blinks before jeonghan threw his head back in laughter, catching the attention of some passing students. "damn, wonwoo," he said, grinning wide. "you're really something."

 

they made their way to one of the stone pavilions nearby. once settled, wonwoo took jeonghan's hand, removed the cheap accessory, and replaced it with the band with his own initials - _jww_. "so i'm always with you."

 

"such a romantic."

 

"beating up anyone that hits on you, but in spirit and a safe distance away."

 

( "what about seungcheol?"

 

"his thighs alone can break my ribs, and i'm not down for that." )

 

with a chuckle and a shake of his head, jeonghan took the ring with his own initials then - _yjh_ \- and slipped it onto wonwoo's middle-left finger. "we can reuse these for our actual wedding," he teased.

 

wonwoo eyed his new accessory, old one still hidden safely in another box at home. he smiled. "they're not that expensive."

 

"but they're just as special."

 

from the next pavilion over, mingyu bellowed, both hands open on either side of his mouth. " _gay!_ "

 

wonwoo rushed over. " _because_." mingyu received a punch on the shoulder. " _we_." another. " _fucking_." and another. " _are!_ "

 

mingyu’s arm had never bruised as badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and another month has passed. damn, this is harder than i thought.


	6. walk on tiptoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they say blood is thicker than water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> six of thirty: new to the family.
> 
> title song: needles & pins by canyon city.

  **one.**

 

jeonghan’s mother didn’t suspect a thing until she saw the little handwritten notes tucked between the pages of his books. wonwoo isn’t one for verbal and artistic subtlety. 

 

yelling ensues.

 

“stop going through my goddamn stuff!”

 

“i was just cleaning your room!”

 

“by dusting every single page of my books?” he retorts. “no wonder it takes you ages to clean the house.”

 

the rude remark leaves his mother unfazed, plan backfiring easily as he watches her stand by his open door with arms crossed over her chest. her gaze is piercing daggers right through his skull. jeonghan refuses to back down, either.

 

the supposed quiet afternoon quickly turns into a staring competition.

 

“are you dating this boy?”

 

he doesn’t - _refuses to_ \- respond.

 

“you know you’re going to hell,” is her final words before she storms down the hallway.

 

jeonghan shuts his eyes, fingers digging into the edge of his mattress as he takes in a deep breath.

 

_i’ll see you there._

 

 

“so, my mom found out.”

 

“ah, shit.”

  

 

his younger sister overhears another argument in the kitchen and quietly passes through, subtly making her way upstairs. she waits for him in his room, and he finds her sitting on the computer chair by his desk.

 

“so,” she starts. “a boyfriend?”

 

jeonghan sighs, expects no judgment from her, although he could do without the teasing tonight. he lets himself fall on the bed. “i’m not ashamed of him or anything.”

 

“you shouldn’t be.” she spins around in the seat before wheeling the chair over by the bed. “do you have a picture?”

 

jeonghan sits up, reaches for his phone on the nightstand just as his sister transfers on the bed beside him. he browses through his photos until, finally, he finds one of them together.

 

she peers at the screen, eyebrows rising in approval. “damn, he’s cute.”

 

jeonghan grins. “back off, he’s mine.”

 

**two.**

 

dinner at wonwoo’s place is less awkward than he expected.

 

“i told you they’d love you.”

 

“wish i could say the same about you.”

 

 

( upon discovery, however, they found out that jeonghan’s dad couldn’t give two shits about who his children are dating unless the cons exceeded the pros.

 

“is he distracting you from your studies?”

 

“no, dad.”

 

“do you still go to training?”

 

“yes, dad.”

 

“then, good.”

 

his mother wasn’t exactly thrilled. )

 

 

after dinner, wonwoo’s parents told him to take jeonghan upstairs to hang out in his room with the condition that they leave the door open. typical, yet highly understandable.

 

then again, neither of them are exactly in the mood to get hot and heavy. they rarely ever are, spending half their time talking about anything and everything. the other half is spent taking naps together.

 

while jeonghan, like a true nerd, is busy browsing through wonwoo’s collection of art history books, wonwoo’s brother knocks on the wall just beside the door. jeonghan greets him with a small smile and a silent wave before his focus is back to flipping through vibrant pages.

 

wonwoo pushes himself off the floor to approach his brother, brow raised in question. “what the hell do you want?”

 

“that your boyfriend?” his brother asks, nodding toward their distracted guest.

 

wonwoo squints. “yeah.”

 

he waits, irritation growing, while his brother eyes jeonghan from his standpoint at the door. he expects teasing or disgust, only to be (mildly) surprised at the lack of either in his brother’s tone and expression. there’s genuine approval in the way his brother nods. “nice.”

 

wonwoo can only chuckle breathlessly in relief, shaking his head.

 

they high-five.

 

**three.**

 

“this is wonwoo.”

 

his sister beams, extending a hand out. “nice to finally meet the mystery man,” she starts, giving his hand a shake that’s surprisingly firm for such a tiny girl. “jeonghan won’t shut up about you.”

 

“that’s a fucking lie, and you know it.”

 

wonwoo chuckles, hands falling back to his sides, sleeves of his sweater long enough to hide the tips of his fingers. sweater paws that come in handy for smacking jeonghan in the face during the rare (not really) times he feels like being annoying mid-study session.

 

“jeonghan talks about you a lot, too.”

 

“good things, i hope?”

 

a pause. “sure.”

 

she huffs, playfully smacking her brother in the arm. jeonghan’s mouth drops, and he emits an offended scoff. “i knew this was a bad idea,” he says. “i can never fucking win.”

 

wonwoo’s nose crinkles as he throws his head back, laughing. “it’s out of love.”

 

jeonghan can tell.

 

he really can.

 

 

"it's getting late. does wonwoo want to stay for dinner?"

 

"dad, i don't think-"

 

"i'll take care of your mother."

 

 

"what do you plan on doing after college, wonwoo?"

 

dinner is pleasant, save for the fact that jeonghan's mother refuses to make eye contact with anyone around the table. his father easily cuts through the tension with practiced ease, making light conversation in addition to his kind words and warm gestures.

 

"i applied for an internship at a museum, sir."

 

"art history, right?"

 

"yes, sir."

 

"do you have a favorite?"

 

"artist?"

 

"and masterpiece."

 

wonwoo visibly perks up. jeonghan notices, finding it adorable. " _bal du moulin de la galette_ ," wonwoo answers with a grin. " _dance at le moulin de la galette_ by pierre-auguste renoir."

 

"i pegged you more as someone who'd prefer surrealism," jeonghan's father admits through a mouthful of noodles.

 

"he's full of surprises," jeonghan says with an amused smile.

 

wonwoo grins. "i do like salvador dali, though."

 

 

"you impressed my dad pretty well tonight," jeonghan says later that night, phone against his ear. he's sprawled on the bed, free arm tucked under his head. "it's a miracle."

 

"your mom hates me."

 

"she doesn't _hate_ you," jeonghan tries to explain, knowing full well there's no excuse to her hostility. although he did appreciate his mother telling wonwoo to bring home some cake to his parents. "her upbringing is just..."

 

"don't worry, i get it."

 

"maybe in the future," jeonghan says. "i mean, you're pretty hard to resist."

 

"after we graduate, everything will fall into place."

 

"you think so?"

 

"i know so," wonwoo reassures. "for now, you just have to show up to more family dinners." a pause. "like, say, next week?"

 

jeonghan sits up so fast he gets a headache. "wait, what?"

 

"my parents are pushing us to get married already. so, you're cordially invited to taste my mom's homemade dumplings next week."

 

jeonghan sighs, but can't help laughing. "god, i'll never get used to meeting the parents."

 

"as long as i have you with me," wonwoo says with a light chuckle. "i'll get through anything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow it's been FOREVER since i updated this. i still haven't given up. (a lie - i've given up on this chapter.) hopefully this one is satisfactory? i've been trying to wrack my brain for words, and i had absolutely no clue on how to continue it. i was stuck for MONTHS. all i did was stare at the words until i got sick of it. it was pretty much a really bad writer's block. i know this isn't my best, but i'll do better in the next chapters! yes, i still plan on continuing this. i love wonhan. wonhan gives me life. ps: the song has no relation to the chapter. i just have no clue what to put as the title.


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